


Power Play

by MidnightCity



Category: Metro 2033 & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Dominance, M/M, Office Blow Jobs, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 16:27:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30142335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidnightCity/pseuds/MidnightCity
Summary: Artyom and Miller are enjoying some creature comforts in Miller's office. At least until there is a knock on the door and Miller is completely at Artyom's mercy while trying to keep his composure ...
Relationships: Artyom/Miller (Metro)
Kudos: 12





	Power Play

“Stop that,” Miller mumbled and changed his position as soon as he felt Artyom’s hand on his thigh again.

After all, Artyom was very intend on not just placing it gently there. No, he was incredibly determined to move further upwards. Miller knew that this was neither the time nor the place since this would do nothing to reduce the pile of maps, and badly written reports he had to sift through.

While the distraction would be welcome at any other time, Miller wanted to get this over with as soon as possible.

Even though, Artyom was persistent and so he had not removed his hand, instead it had wandered upwards, gently running over the inside of his thigh.

Miller felt the goosebumps on his arms as he took a deep breath. “Artyom …” Miller mumbled again, but the effect he was having on him encouraged Artyom to continue.

The effect was pretty obvious because Miller’s blood had very obviously travelled to other places than his brain.

“… we can do this later,” Miller tried nevertheless.

In the end, Miller had not suspected that Artyom would stay after giving his report. And even then, that he would become such an obvious … distraction. There was work that Miller needed to concentrate on instead, and as a commanding officer, he had to keep some sort of professionalism. Even if the military protocol was laxer than what Miller had been used to. After all, Miller had indulged in this … little creature comfort with Artyom for a while.

Sometimes, he even wondered if it was the right thing but as Ulman had very bluntly but in his way charmingly put it, who would be left for Miller if he kept a distance to all of his subordinates? Then he’d be alone.

Even though, Ulman had tried to talk him into going out to eat with some other Rangers, and had probably not had sexual relations with a younger man in mind.

Miller shook his head taking Artyom’s hand in his. “Tyoma, this can wait for later …” Miller apologised. “… I need to read this.”

“What’s stopping you?”

Now Artyom was just taking the piss. He must know that just like the first time, Miller could not resist despite his better judgement – it had always been like that. So the mere touch of his hand so close to his crotch made his mind wander to different memories. Memories of his hand on his naked form, Miller’s lips on Artyom’s sweaty skin as they moved together …

“You are.”

But Artyom shook his head, contradicting the statement with such a simple movement. Unbothered, he continued to palm his cock through his clothes. Miller took in a sharp breath, acutely aware of how tight his trousers were all of the sudden.

Just as Miller wanted to correct him, Artyom went onto his knees and with an almost graceful movement, slipped between Miller’s legs underneath the desk.

Before Miller could even ask what Artyom was doing, he pressed his mouth against Miller’s crotch, causing a sharp intake of breath. Miller lacked any control to stop him, and if he was honest he did not want to either. So he merely watched as Artyom opened the fly of his trousers, his fingers moving inside.

In a last-ditch effort to keep some of his dignity, Miller began with “Artyom …” but the rest did not make it out as Artyom began to stroke him through his underwear. The complaint disappeared quickly …

Maybe Miller should just accept this little gift, and why not? He worked hard enough and could indulge in a little pleasure?

The spark in Artyom’s eyes seemed to confirm his belief, and so Miller reached for Artyom’s hand and guided it away. The frown on his face only lasted for so long when he noticed that Miller started to undo his belt, giving him better access.

When he slipped down the waistband of his boxer briefs, he released a long breath, feeling relief as the constrictions of his trousers were taken away. Only now did Miller see how stupidly worked up he was – his cock already taunt and hard, begging for more.

Artyom was more than willing to provide him with that. Without further ado from Miller, he bent over him, giving the tip of his cock an almost absurd and quick kiss before Artyom licked the palm of his hand and wrapped it around the base.

“I should still …” Miller barely brought it out, as he Artyom ran his tongue over his tip and stroked him slowly. “… try to get through this report.”

Even as he said those words, Miller let his eyes fall shut. The sensation of a hand on his cock that was not his own, was just too sweet to ignore. This was not just scratching an itch, instead Artyom took his time, working him up even further – running his tongue along the length, and then only to enclose the tip, teasing him.

Not yet giving Miller what he truly needed … so Miller reached below and ran his hand through Artyom’s short hair, hoping that this would give him enough incentive. Maybe it was what Artyom had needed because he looked up lazily, and while never breaking eye-contact, and with all the time and care in the world, Artyom took in the full length. At least until, he closed his eyes again, remaining at the base while humming contently.

Miller had to bite his lower lip to keep himself from just shoving it all the way down his throat. Forcing Artyom to finally finish sucking him off and as hard as he could.

The torture was just a little too tempting to ignore the slow built up. So Miller took a deep breath, balling his fist and let his head roll back as Artyom began to lazily move his head. Slow and steady, while Miller forced his hips to remain still, even as he wanted more. More friction … more force …

“Good, very good,” Miller encouraged Artyom.

Seemingly encouraged by his words, Artyom moved faster. Miller had not missed the little moans that escaped the other man. The rest of the world, seemed to drift further away from Miller, getting lost in the sensation of Artyom’s tongue on his cock and his lips wrapped around it.

Miller heard a small moan, and only then realised that he had unintentionally tugged at Artyom’s hair. Yet, the sound thrilled him, so he did it again, bringing Artyom out of his rhythm from time to time.

So really, Miller could no longer resits the urge and ran his other hand through Artyom’s hair – guiding him, and forced him closer only to then keep him down to watch as his nose would tickle his pubic hair.

At least, until a soft sound of protest could be heard, and Miller released him again, keeping his hands on him, feeling as his head would move up and down while Artyom continued to do a fantastic job.

Only for Artyom to grab his thighs as support, move fast, taking him in without any protest. Miller just about thought he would lose his senses as the spit ran down the length. He wanted to lose himself the warmth and wetness of Artyom’s mouth, so he pushed into him … wanting to let go, and …

Suddenly Artyom pulled off. Miller opened his eyes in surprise, instantly missing the friction, and contact. In panic he wondered if something had gone wrong, or if maybe he had been too rough, but as he looked down at Artyom, seeing his flushed cheeks and red lips, nothing indicated any displeasure.

Instead Artyom wore a smirk that was far too cocky as he bent lower. Miller hissed, as Artyom ran his tongue along the underside of his penis, taking his time but he did not enclose Miller again. Instead, he repeated this over and over, until Miller thought that he would fall apart, and nearly begged for more.

“Fuck!” Miller jumped when suddenly there was a knock on his door. “Shit …” Feeling the pain that radiated from his knee, as he realised that he had hit his desk. Looking down, he saw Artyom staring at him with wide eyes.

Shaking his head, Miller collected his thoughts. “Did I hit you?”

Luckily, Artyom shook his head. Miller let go of his hair and stroked his flushed cheeks. That was at least something, but the knocking on his door was annoyingly persistent.

“I don’t expect anyone,” Miller explained. “It can’t be long …”

The stupid aspect about leading the Spartan Rangers was that he could not just ignore a request. This could be an emergency, or serious trouble. However, if that was the case, Miller had a bigger problem of trying to find an efficient and undetectable way of hiding his boner and putting his trousers back on. 

“Just be quiet.” Then Miller winked at Artyom. “Might earn yourself a reward.”

There was a wicked little smile on Artyom’s lips, and Miller knew that he had understood him. Right now, he had to ignore this along the urge to just get this over with and jerk himself off.

Taking a deep breath, Miller placed both his hand on top of the desk and shouted. “Come in!”

A moment later, Ulman peeked inside the room. “Afternoon, Colonel.” And closed the door behind him.

Only then did it come to him that Ulman might want to take a seat opposite of him. A thought that made Miller extremely uncomfortable at the moment but Ulman remained at a respectful distance.

Miller knew this behaviour, having gotten used to it during the last ten years. So he curtly asked. “What did you do?”

“You’re not going to like it.”

Miller had already figured out this much – not only because of UIman’s guilt ridden body language. Primarily because he would have rather enjoyed shoving his cock down Artyom’s throat than listening to Ulman’s bullshit.

“Go on,” Miller sighed.

“Well …” Ulman drew out the word before he began to explain. “… do you remember when about five years ago, Pavel and I were training with throw knifes? This did, maybe just a little bit, escalate when we wanted to see if he can shoot a decorative apple off my shoulder.

“We never figured it out because you walked in on us, caused Pasha to jump and he misaimed. So, now I have this really weird looking scar on my thigh. And you may have threatened that if we ever did something like this again, you’d bust both of us down to privates?”

Ulman did not even take another breath before he went on.

“It was not _exactly_ that, Sir, since we weren’t even using throw knifes. In our defence, Pavel was really bored after staring at the same infirmary wall for weeks, and we had no idea what that thing behind him was. So we thought that we should …”

While Ulman continued to ramble, Miller felt Artyom wrap his hand around the base of his cock. His heart started to beat faster and his body tensed at the touch. When Artyom gave him one smooth stroke, Miller took a deep breath to keep his composure.

“Anyway … those details aren’t exactly important …” Miller was in luck that Ulman seemed to interpret his reaction as annoyance. “… the good news is that I did not hit Pavel.”

There Ulman offered him a bright smile.

“The bad is that I did hit the secondary auxiliary system controls behind him instead.” Miller closed his eyes hearing this. “But you also have to consider the bright side, sir, we finally know where those are.”

At that Artyom snorted and Miller instantly gave him a weak slap on the cheek. It was not enough that Artyom was playing with him but also that Ulman seemed to have heard it as well. Now obvious confusion had replaced the guilt on his face. 

So Miller had to salvage this situation. “How broken is it?”

“Very, sir,”

Miller was just about to shout at Ulman with what exactly he had hit the damn controls, when Artyom gave his cock another stroke. Miller felt his muscles clench and his brain drew a blank for a moment.

Only to come back, seeing Ulman still looking at him. Damn both of these men, Miller wanted to curse. He was completely at Artyom’s mercy, and in an extremely odd way also at Ulman’s.

If Ulman would even start to realise what exactly was going on here, Miller was sure that he would never hear the end of it. Gone would be the days when Miller could reprimand him for all the annoying jokes, pranks, and stupid trouble he got himself into.

For some reason, this thought had not even dawned on Artyom who had now started to enclose the tip of his cock and circled it with his tongue. Miller wanted nothing more than to just throw Ulman out, and push deep inside the wetness of Artyom’s mouth.

“Are you alright, sir?” Ulman asked as Miller balled his fists in an effort to hold back a whine.

Annoyingly the concern in Ulman’s face was real. “Yes,” Miller forced out, by now Artyom was once more, running his tongue along the length his damned cock.

“You sure? I can get the doc for you, no trouble at all,” Ulman offered. “And you do look a little … feverish.”

Miller took a sharp breath when Artyom took his cock back inside his mouth. He would not even be able to stand this for much longer. No matter how much Miller longed to fall apart to Artyom’s skilful tongue – the thought that he might do so under Ulman’s watchful gaze was not one he could get comfortable with.

“Why are you still here, Ulman?” he asked, while he grabbed Artyom’s hair so tightly that it took any sort of movement away from him. Forcing him to stay still with his cock shoved deep inside of him, almost gagging Artyom.

“I am awaiting my punishment.”

Miller hated Ulman’s choice of words.

The fucking bastard was so close to teasing Miller, just as Artyom was – not taking any mercy. Miller could hardly control both of them without exposing himself first. He’d be damned if he did that!

“Do you want to be slapped across the cheek, or what?” Miller shot back.

Ulman merely shrugged half-heartedly. Just as he was about to open his mouth to answer with some wise-cracking remark Miller could already hear, he cut him off.

“You know very well that you fucked up, Ulman! And I surely did not promote you for the fun of it.”

“Was a fun day for me.”

Miller was about to tell him off once more, when Artyom dug his fingernails into his thigh. Not only did this force, Miller to release him, he also nearly lost his god damn senses as Artyom pulled off, only to mercilessly suck at him hard.

“Fuck …” Miller cursed under his breath. This time there was no hiding it, Ulman had heard it perfectly. “Fuck off, Ulman!” Miller tried to play it off. “I have work to do, and you are old enough to fix the stupid shit you get yourself into, so you better start doing that now!”

“Alright, alright, Jesus …” Ulman lifted his hands in defence. “No need for those harsh words.”

It was only then that Miller realised that maybe he had chosen the wrong words.

“It was just a secondary system after all,” Ulman added under his breath.

Or maybe not. “Ulman! I swear …”

Ulman already turned on his heels. “Yes, yes, am going.” As he stepped through the door. “Already gone.”

Yet, Miller still managed to hear Pavel’s voice asking, “What did he say?”

“We’re good for now,” Ulman snorted. “Probably because I walked in on him having a wank.”

Miller was about to shout at him once more. “Disgusting, Ed! We give our reports in there.” But then the door fell shut with a loud clash.

As if on cue, Artyom took in his whole length. It took all of Miller’s strength to not scream out loud, the thought that Ulman might still be close enough to hear it made sure that he could keep his composure just so …

Yet, the feeling of Artyom’s spit running down his cock as his head bobbed so beautifully above him … it would be so easy to just give in now … to let go and remove all of this pressure … to come hard into Artyom’s mouth and force him to swallow …

However, Miller would be damned if he would give Artyom that satisfaction. It was the least Artyom would deserve for his insubordination and playing Miller like a damned fiddle with Ulman in the room.

“You little shit,” Miller mumbled and ran his hand through Artyom’s soft hair. Only to yank at them hard enough for Artyom to stop and whine. Frozen in place, Miller carefully and ever so slowly guided Artyom away from his cock.

Artyom’s cheeks were flushed, his lips red, and there was a trail of spit leading from the tip of Miller’s hard cock to his mouth.

“Get up,” Miller ordered Artyom. “This can’t go unpunished.”

Miller pushed his chair back, without waiting for Artyom get up. Only for a brief moment, did the other man linger on his knees. When Artyom made it to his feet, Miller did not waste any more time and grabbed him by the arm, twisting him around to bend him over his desk.

One step closer, and Miller was already pressing his cock against Artyom’s arse – which was, regrettably, still covered by his trousers.

Yet, the feeling of Miller’s cock seemed to be enough to cause Artyom to moan. Not wanting to wait for another moment, Miller undid Artyom’s belt while still holding him down with the other hand. Then he grabbed his trousers and without much ado, pulled them towards his knees – exposing his beautiful arse.

As Miller bent forward, he reached for Artyom’s cock – noticing how slick and heavy it was in his hand – and whispered into his ear, “Not so easy to be quiet, is it?”

Miller gave Artyom a few determined strokes, not willing to show him any mercy when Artyom hadn’t either. Even as Artyom tried to wiggle away from the over-stimulation, Miller refused to let him go, and continued to stroke him. 

“Let’s see how long you can stand it,” Miller taunted him, as he leaned back – still running his hand along Artyom’s length. He placed his hand between Artyom’s shoulder blades, watching as his back ached and muscles became tense under his touch. A beautiful sight, that Miller was almost inclined to preserve.

Almost …

Truth was that he wanted to ravage it as well – ruin it, and cause Artyom to become an absolute mess. A fitting punishment for the control and power Artyom had had over him. And so, Miller reached inside the drawer of his desk to take out a box of Vaseline.

As Miller let go of Artyom’s cock, he did not miss the little whine of protest which quickly stopped when Miller dipped his fingers into the substance, rubbing it between his fingers. Looking up, Miller noticed that Artyom’s eyes were trailed on him, hunger visible as he bit his lips in anticipation.

Now aware that Artyom was watching him closely, Miller took his own cock in his hand, and with steady moves, he began to stroke himself. Always making sure that Artyom had a great view and would like what he saw. When Miller could no longer endure the touch, he stepped up to Artyom again.

Artyom already had his eyes closed, a small grin on his lips – knowing fully well what was to come but Miller could wait.

So, he pressed Artyom into the desk again, letting the tip of his penis push against the opening of Artyom’s anus. Seeing Artyom wiggle, whine and grind, but Miller refused to give him that satisfaction just yet.

As if he was just scolding one of his soldiers, Miller shook his head and tutted at him.

“Do you want this?” Miller asked him, and to drive the point on, pushed inside of him just a little bit. Artyom’s reaction was instant, he clenched his teeth and became more and more nervous – wanting and needing all of Miller inside of him.

But Miller wanted to hear the answer – so even Miller had to control the irresistible urge to just fuck Artyom until the whole base would hear his screams. 

Luckily, Artyom was easy to break and he nodded. Despite his best wishes, Miller pulled back, letting his finger circle his anus instead. Artyom flinched at the touch, at being teased, and Miller pushed inside of him. Delighted when Artyom pressed against his hand – almost starting to ride himself off on it. So Miller added another finger and did him the favour …

Pulling in and out, watching as Artyom moved in the same rhythm. At least until he moaned, Miller instantly pulled out. “I said, quiet!” he ordered him. Without much ado, Miller stepped up, pressing against Artyom and pushed his cock inside of him.

The shout was instant, and Miller had expected as much – he even enjoyed it. He enjoyed the feeling of Artyom’s being so tight around him, and the sound he made when he pushed inside of him again, and again – each time harder.

And Miller loved Artyom’s desperate and futile attempts to keep his mouth shut. So Miller bent down towards him, kissed his cheek and then covered his mouth with his hand.

“Not a sound,” Miller ordered him once more as he continued to fuck him so hard that he heard his belt slapping against Artyom’s soft skin. 

Even though Artyom was already breathing hard through his nose, Miller was not willing to give him any mercy. No, Artyom was just a little too sweet like this, far too fuckable … the untouched and unharmed skin that was visible at the edges of his shirt were just a little too tempting. There was not a scratch or scar in sight, and it stood in stark contrast to his own skin.

It just seemed to be begging for Miller to take advantage of and mark him as his, so that all the Rangers would know who Artyom really belonged to.

So Miller placed a kiss on his skin, just to see if it was really as soft as it looked. Then he grazed him with his teeth, running it over the skin, rough and hard enough that it answered him in an angry and almost scandalised red.

Even as Artyom moaned, Miller did not bother about this. Instead he continued to fuck and mark Artyom – nibbling hard, and licking the same spot over and over until he was sure that he had done a decent job.

Miller could indeed be proud of his handy-work, when he looked at it. Once more, Miller felt in complete control of the situation, and so Miller thrusted into Artyom hard. The result was a tortured moan that got stuck somewhere in Artyom’s throat. Seeing it sent such a thrill through Miller that he did it again, and again, and again, just to watch it over, and over, and over.

Only then did Miller reach between Artyom’s legs, taking his leaking cock in his hand. As he gave it a squeeze and started to move along its length. Artyom moaned loudly once more. He pressed into Miller’s touch, demanding more while Artyom clenched his jaw in a fruitless effort to keep this quiet.

While they continued to move together, fanatically trying to find more friction and release, Miller could no longer stand it. The sweet burning in the pit of his stomach could no longer be ignored. The rush started to spread across all of his body, even to his fingertips and toes – overriding each of his senses and controls.

So Miller stroked Artyom, fucking him harder while dominating him – he loved every single moment of it – until the sensation finally consumed Miller whole. He had to suppress a loud scream as he threw his head back, feeling the semen drip from his hand while he rode himself off in Artyom. Miller drowned himself further in this feeling, realising how wonderfully tight Artyom was around him and that he seamen in his hand was Artyom’s.

He never wanted to forget a single moment of this, but as it ended, Miller collapsed on top of Artyom – barely able to catch his breath anymore.

Nevertheless, habit took over very quickly – because he knew better than to believe that there was any sweetness in this physical comfort. So he pushed off Artyom and let himself fall into his chair instead. Still, he reached for Artyom’s hand, the stickiness brutally obvious now.

Only slowly did Miller regain control of his breathing, and in that time Artyom seemed to start to recover as well. He slowly straightened, only to flop down onto Miller’s leg, resting his head on his shoulder.

Miller noted how their uneven each of their breaths was as he looked at a spot on the ceiling. In order to make sure that Artyom would not fall and hurt himself, he wrapped an arm around him to keep him steady. 

No matter what this really was, Miller had a duty to take care of his needs afterwards. He would not abandon Artyom when he was still so weak, and needed maybe a little bit of protecting until he recovered his wits again.

“Are you alright, boy?” Miller asked quietly.

A small smile formed on Artyom’s lips as he nodded. 


End file.
